That's the way I am: A Ricky Linderman Tale
by Mrs.Phineas Bogg
Summary: Thirty years have passed since Ricky admitted his guilt. Keeping a yearly pact with Clifford, they meet at the train station. Ricky reminisces on events that night which helped him to move ahead with life, and has a sweet chance encounter that changes his future.
1. Year after year

"_**That's the way I am…"**_

**Chapter 1: Year after year**

The man slowly climbed the deserted steps of the 'L' train station. His strong hand grasped the railing and his heart thudded against his chest. Year after year he came to this very spot. As long as he lived he would never forget that night. It was a peak moment during his teen years when his sanity and his very life stood in the balance. It took the faith of his best friend and the kindness of a beautiful stranger to ease him away from the precipice.

The man walked briskly a few paces beyond the stairwell and halted. He stared at the tracks and followed the bits of paper and debris blowing across the rails. A tiny rat scurried across to find sustenance. He stared at his watch. It was a little after ten-thirty pm. He dug his hands into his denim pockets and waited.

Another man eventually trudged up the stairwell; he was winded, having somewhat ran the distance from his hotel. He peeked beyond the entrance and saw his best friend of thirty years pacing back and forth and hunching his shoulders up and down as he muttered to himself. No matter how big his friend got, the green jacket still fit him. He smiled and approached him.

"I made it, Linderman. Just like I said I would."

"I was wondering if you were gonna come…you know, I don't hold you to this anymore, Cliff. You look a little out of breath."

Clifford came up behind him and patted his shoulder. "I'm fine. Ricky, I told you I'd always be here if I'm available…and tonight I was, I made sure of it."

Ricky smiled wryly. "I know you're humoring me, but I appreciate it, man. I'm not gonna fault you for the years you were away at college, or the time you up and moved outta town for a while. I only come to this spot once a year and every time it feels exactly like that night."

Clifford chuckled. "Except you're not shoving me against a pole." He removed his jacket and placed it over his arm. The weather warmed up this time of year. "Hey listen, Shelly said to come by the apartment. She made her roast beef special and has plenty left over."

_"Nahh,_ it's late, Cliff. I don't wanna be a burden. Daniel's probably sleeping anyway and when us grown ups get together, we got big mouths."

Clifford snorted. "Since when are you a burden, man? You're family, Ricky. Haven't you learned that in the past twenty years since me and Shelly tied the knot? And Danny…_Ha!_ That boy doesn't know what sleep is, when I left him he was playing video games. He keeps telling me to get a _Wii fit_. I told him I already have a _Ballys_ gym membership, thank you."

Ricky grinned. "And you don't take advantage of it, you're still a string bean…an _out of shape_ string bean!"

Clifford punched his shoulder and sulked. "Hey, pal, we can't all be Hercules! Shelly loves me just the way I am."

"We all know that Shelly is _Mrs. String bean._ _Ehh,_ maybe more like an asparagus." Ricky laughed.

"And you're still the Jolly green giant! You know I had to go there."

"Yep, I'll never forget the day Shelly made that comparison in front of the entire student body. So, now I gotta look over and protect my vegetables." Ricky clutched his chest. "It hurts me so to hear you say such things..."

"Oh please…_nothing _hurts…I mean...never mind." Clifford refrained from saying that nothing hurt Ricky.

The one thing that hurt him was part of the reason they were at this back end station in the middle of the night. It was the anniversary of the night teen-age Ricky Linderman finally released his pent-up emotions and revealed the source of his depression, and, it was the night that Clifford Peache proved himself to be a solid and true friend.

Clifford eyed Ricky with slight envy . Standing about 6'4, the man was a chiseled rock. Even at forty-six, Ricky barely aged a day, aside from his scraggly goatee and a few lines around the eyes and mouth. On this particular occasion, his handsome features encompassed the cherubic, yet stoic appearance he posessed at sixteen.

"So, how's my Erica? Need me to start busting any heads yet?" Ricky joked.

Clifford laughed. _"Not _just yet, but I'll give you a holler when it's time. That girl knows how to defend herself."

"I know. I taught your kids well."

Clifford's daughter recently turned sixteen and just started to discover the joys of the opposite sex. Ricky was considered like a loving and overprotective uncle to Clifford's children.

"When she was still little, she used to tell me she was gonna marry a man just like _uncle_ Ricky. You remember?" Clifford asked.

"Oh _yeah,_ she warmed my heart. Then she would look up at me with those inherited baby blues and tell me that if she didn't find someone _just like me_, she'd marry _me_ instead_,_ even if I lost all my hair and got a big belly."

Clifford couldn't resist teasing and ran his hand through his silvered mass of brown curls. "Funny how she said you'd _lose_ your hair rather than go gray!"

Ricky pulled his black baseball cap lower over his brow and wagged his finger at him. _"No_ comment! I'm not _bald...yet!_"

"Not completely." Clifford snickered.

"You just make sure any guy that wants to date my Erica doesn't have all my baggage, okay? If he does, I wanna talk to him."

"Alright, Linderman, you got it. But really, besides the obvious, what baggage could you possibly have? You never got married, never had kids…you have a solid career..._two _careers."

Ricky gazed up at the station lights. His smile faded. "Believe me, what goes on in my head sometimes is more than enough for anyone."

Clifford sighed and attempted to change the subject. "So, what's the dirt at _Lakeview High_? How are you handling _those_ kids?"

Ricky shrugged humbly. "The same way I always have, with love, and a helluva lot of patience. You'd be amazed at how much respect you'll get from the students if you _don't_ patronize, and then you can help them channel any aggressive..."

Clifford held up his hands. "_Woah, _okay. Now you're starting to sound like that therapist you're always yapping about. The one on the late night radio. What's her name? _Dr. C?"_

"She's great, I've been listening to her for six years, but I never had the guts to call in."

"Do you even apply her advice?"

Ricky looked away sheepishly. "Well…I try. I get real gung-ho about it, and even take notes for my students, but when it comes to me, I just _uh_…forget. I don't know why she's not more renowned."

"Maybe she wants to keep a low profile. Believe me, there are enough lunatics in Chicago to keep her busy for a lifetime."

Ricky glared at him and Clifford shrank back. _"Umm_..._present_ company excluded of course…we can all learn from…_anyway_, next topic."

"Are you still afraid of me, Cliff?" Ricky teased.

"No, I just want to keep you focused."

"Thanks. I get you, man."

Clifford patted his shoulder and smiled. "Hey, thanks for taking care of my grandma's grave…and I know all those gorgeous pink roses last week came from you."

Ricky waved his hand. "I'd do anything for Grandma Peache! She taught me to trip the light fantastic!"

Clifford burst out laughing. "I can't believe you took her up on that half drunk offer! You actually came back over the summer and asked for Lindy and Charleston lessons. You sure did _trip_ alright. That was a riot!"

Ricky did a few wobbly dance moves and threw his arms out wide. "She was a great teacher. We had a ball! You were too busy being embarrassed and missed all the fun."

Clifford rolled his eyes. "I joined in sometimes. But you two were _insane."_

"Insane enough to put on a show at the old folks home. Grandma Peache never gave up on me, she told me to live my life to the fullest and do what made me happy…I'm really trying, Cliff." Ricky replied soberly.

After graduation and a few indecisive years, Ricky applied himself to a career as a guidance counselor and he made their old High School his stomping grounds. Ricky's chosen profession amazed Clifford at first, but he gradually understood that it was what he desperately needed. Ricky carried a dreadful notion that he he was undeserving to pursue a normal home and hearth, or have the joys and tribulations that came with a marriage and children. Ricky felt that kind of happiness was beyond him. He made an intentional decision to remain in Chicago and devote his life to helping others. It was the only way he felt he could atone for his brother's death. In his spare time he freelanced as a full-service mechanic. Ricky always kept himself busy; otherwise, he often told Clifford, the stillness would drive him mad.

"How's that kid coming along, the most recent case you're handling?" Clifford asked.

Ricky's eyes lit up. "You mean Kelvin? He made some good progress! I got him to open up more about his home-life. His artwork gets better and better, and thankfully, less dismal. I even encouraged him to join the tutoring program, he excels in English."

Clifford nodded, satisfied that he drew Ricky's mind away from one tragedy. However, his students had plenty of their own. Kelvin Randall was an African-American sophomore student at _Lake View._ He was a generally well-liked and rambunctious class-clown, but Ricky and his teachers noticed that Kelvin's entire demeanor changed. He became hostile and withdrew from his peers. An above average student, his grades dropped dramatically.

Kelvin's little sister was killed in a crossfire shootout in their neighborhood. It started off as any normal evening in the projects –noisy and busy – but Kelvin always said everyone knew your name and had your back. Kelvin was supposed to go to the corner store for some last minute dinner staples, but lazily demanded his sister Kiara, do it. She never made it home alive.

Ricky understood his deep pain and consequent guilt. After attending the funeral, he tried hard to get Kelvin under his wing. He observed how the teen talked of revenge and betrayed aggressive emotions against the perpetrators through dark, yet hauntingly picturesque drawings and graffiti. Once Kelvin got past the _'You wouldn't understand because you're old and white'_ phase, he heeded Ricky's counsel and developed a sort of kinship with him. He warmed up further once he realized Ricky suffered a similar tragedy at his age.

"That's good to hear, Ricky. You're really making a difference in these kid's lives…I'll never forget how you saved that girl."

Ricky looked at Clifford and cringed, the memory struck him hard. A decade prior, Ricky helped establish a drug abuse program in the school. One of the first participants battled addiction, her parent's divorce, and a general overwhelming feeling of worthlessness. Both she and Ricky nearly took a tumble off the school rooftop one intense afternoon.

"That was too close a call, Clifford. I didn't get over it for weeks. She eventually got the proper help, and pulled through clean and sober. I never told you, but she came back to visit the school two years ago to thank me again for saving her. She said her life was spared in more ways than one. You know I hate crying in front of anyone, but she got my waterworks going. I really needed to hear that at the time, because I wondered whether or not to even continue as a counselor."

"That's beautiful. You are a fantastic counselor, Ricky. Everyone at Lakeview knows it too. You're not a quitter. They need you."

As a result of his heroism, Ricky's daring rescue made headlines. It also dredged up his past and news articles resurfaced from when he supposedly found his brother shot in the head. The horrible unspoken truth was that Ricky lied. His brother grabbed for the gun Ricky foolishly played around with. It happened so fast with just one slip of his finger against the trigger. Rather than take the blame like his dying brother warned him to, he put the gun in his hand and said…

_"I found him that way…"_ Ricky announced.

Clifford noticed Ricky drift into his own world, but this time avoided bringing him back to his senses. It happened the same way every year. Ricky needed a moment to reflect and become that misunderstood teenager again. His eyes glazed over with deep regret.

"I could never bring myself to tell my parents. My mother died believing it was an accident. My father always blamed himself and drifted away from us. I barely see him now, but I try and help him when I can. He can't work anymore, doctor's orders. He's old and miserable. In a way I blame him too. How could you keep a loaded gun in the house with two boys? Talk about irresponsible!"

Ricky fumed and staggered around the walkway and cracked his knuckles. "My mom always told him to hide it, but dad just shoved it in a damn shoebox at the top of the closet. Anyone could have bit the bullet if they rummaged up there…_arrgh_…forget it! I'm sorry Clifford. All I do is repeat the same damn stories."

Ricky reluctantly faced Clifford as he had so many years ago. Hot tears sprinkled past his eyelids and down his cheeks and his face turned pink with grief.

"All this pain and guilt…it never ends for me, and then I have to drag you here like it's some religious rite of passage!"

Clifford hung his head, it was not a big burden for him to support his best friend, but he felt that Ricky somehow needed to let go of his past. Another thought crossed his mind about their fateful night. He cautiously put a hand on his arm.

"Hey, I think I know what else is eating you. You never found her, did you?"

Ricky wiped his eyes and kicked at the floor disappointed. "No…thirty years I've been in this city and we never crossed paths again. What a moron I was! We were stuck in that train car for over an hour during the black out and I never even got her last name."

"Well, Rick, I would hardly say you were in the mood to start a romance…but I know…it wasn't _about_ that. She really helped you out, didn't she?"

Ricky clasped his hands across the back of his neck. "It's weird, Cliff. We just got to talking and the stuff she said brought me back to reality. I mean, she came on that train as depressed and wrecked as I was, but when she saw I needed help…"

"She forgot her troubles and comforted you…I understand. And she didn't coddle either, you told me she was pretty firm some of the time." Clifford grinned slyly. "You gloated about what a hot babe she was for weeks! I couldn't take hearing it after a while."

Ricky looked at him surprised. "Cliff, you never told me that!" He smiled. "You weren't so nice to me either that night. If I remember you called me a damn ape and said I built a bike to go nowhere."

Clifford shrugged. "It was the truth, wasn't it?"

_"Yeah _it was. I know I raved a lot about her. To this day, I can't get her face out of my head, even if the image dims with age. Her eyes were spectacular, they were huge and this soft shade of blue… she had a real cute nose and a giant smile. I _loved_ her smile. A real…_strong_ looking girl, but at the same time she was slight and fragile, ya know?"

Clifford laughed. "Geez, Rick, you sound sixteen again. Are you sure she's not your long lost twin sister? The way you always described her I pictured _you _in a long wig!"

Ricky shoved him playfully. "Get outta here! It's a known scientific fact that the people we become most attracted to and eventually marry usually have similar characteristics and facial traits…it's not absolute, but hey…"

"I get it, man. People always said Shelly and I somehow just 'go' together. We both have big blue eyes, curly brown hair and all that too."

"Cliff, nobody, and I mean _nobody,_ could have helped me as much as you and your family did all these years…it's just…I wish I could see her again, just to tell her that I'm _alright._"

"I know, but who knows what could have happened to her? There are any number of things…"

Ricky put his hand up. "Believe me, I've counted them off in my head, marriage and family, death, she moved…death…dammit. She tried to tell me about her crummy life, but I was too caught up in my own mess. I hope it didn't come to that."

Ricky folded his arms and leaned out over the tracks. The eleven o'clock train rolled in and he wanted to make sure to be on it. "I'm just dreaming, man, don't mind me."

Clifford yawned and backed toward the stairwell. "Ricky, just like my grandmother said, whatever makes you happy, go for it. Because that's how I like to see you too…_happy._


	2. Who's gonna drop dead?

**"That's the way I am…"  
**

**Chapter 2: Who's gonna drop dead?**

As the train pulled up to the station, Ricky gave Clifford a brisk handshake and hug.

"Be careful getting home, man. Can you make it okay?"

_"Ehh,_ don't worry about me…this is my territory. I'm all grown up now."

"True, but you don't have your bodyguard." Ricky grinned.

The train doors slid open and Clifford pushed him inside. "In this day and age, I'll need some weaponry too. But I pass. You care a lot about people don't you?"

Ricky glanced soberly at his boots. He caught his eye just as the door closed. "You know me, Cliff, _that's the way I am…"_

As the train pulled out, Ricky settled down in a seat by the window. One elderly bag lady slept in the back. Ricky peered at her, just to make sure she was still alive. The old woman's head rolled forward and she snapped to attention. It wasn't her stop yet. Her sallow eyes drifted closed again and she snored. Ricky smiled. He crossed his arms and leaned back, lost in memories of that night.

**Flashback: 1979**

Ricky couldn't look Clifford's way as the train rode out of the station. He was too embarrassed. Tears misted his eyes and made his cheeks itch when he rubbed them.

_Crap, I got snot on my sleeve. _He thought.

He last cried at his brother's funeral a year ago. He sank deeper into his seat. All his energy drained. It took all his vital force to admit the truth to Clifford.

_"I didn't find him! I shot him! I shot him!...We were home alone and I was playing with my dad's gun, he said let me have it and I said no! I was too busy showing off like a damn fool. He got angry with me and grabbed it...and it fired! My God! I was laughing when it went off! Blood gushed out of the side of his head and he didn't even know it. He was afraid that when dad got home he'd get spanked. Do know what he said to me as he was dying? He said, 'You're gonna have to take the blame for this one.' I couldn't even do that right...I lied, I put the gun in his hand and said I found him that way!"_

He never told anyone before.

_Aren't you supposed to feel relief when you confess your sins? _He pondered. _Where's mine?_

Right now Ricky didn't feel a thing. He could have bashed his head against the window bars ten times and it wouldn't have made a difference. But he had no clue what to do next. Loosening up and hanging with other students wasn't as bad as he imagined. They shared unreasonable fears and whispers among themselves, but when they actually came to know him, they liked him. That didn't make up for all the time Ricky spent being ridiculed. They warped his tragedy so much that he was believed to be a deranged cop-killer and rapist. It wasn't fair.

_Let this happen to one of them and see how they like it!_ He thought bitterly. _I wouldn't have teased them or avoided them._

Ricky's hands shook and he unclenched his fists. His oil stained fingernails dug into his palms so tight he drew a little blood. The sleeves of his jacket rose up and he saw the horrible reminders of his guilt scarred across his wrist. He balled his hands again and banged on his knees. Would anyone really care if he tried to do it again? His parents barely acknowledged him; he had no friends…except Clifford Peache. What was one friend in a world of billions of strangers? Clifford would forget him soon enough and muddle through the rest of High School.

"Who'd watch the little guy's back?" Ricky whispered. " I still owe him six bucks..._screw it! _He's got a loving family and a lot of money… he'll be _alright."_

He resolved to have no hesitation this time, and he would have to make sure no one was home to catch him. His mind wandered with brutal preparations and the train entered into another station. A young woman dressed in faded denims staggered into the car and slammed herself in the seats across from Ricky. He glanced in her direction, not really seeing her, but just looking into space. She caught his eye and glared at him.

"What the hell are you looking at? You think I'm pretty? You think _this_ is pretty! You're so tough, maybe you'd like to make it prettier?"

The make-up on her dark lined eyes smeared across her soft cheeks. His gaze lowered toward her mouth. She cupped her hand on the side of her lip and Ricky was startled to see a cut and rapidly swelling bruise. A few drops of blood dribbled from her nostril. Ricky instinctively raised his hand in a gentle motion, but he caught himself and drew it back to his coat. What was he going to do? Wipe it away?

He eyed her sharply. "No, it's _not_ pretty! And don't assume I would do that." He fumed. "And maybe I wasn't looking at _you_, alright."

Ricky turned away from her and the flush of hurt and irritation attacked his cheeks. The girl was visibly distressed. She curled up against the window and whimpered. Ricky felt sorry, but she wasn't his problem right now. He hated when his thoughts were rudely interrupted.

He pulled at his hair and mumbled. "You damn freak, Ricky!" He rocked back and forth. "You monster! Just do it already and drop dead! _Drop dead! Drop dead!"_

The girl stopped crying and wiped her face and bloody nose with a crumpled tissue from her pocket. She slid from her seat and plopped herself next to him.

She nudged his arm. "Who's gonna drop dead?"

Ricky couldn't raise his head from his hands. _"Me!"_

"Why?"

"Because I'm a nobody. I deserve to!"

"Why, what did you do?"

"I did something horrible and unforgivable…just leave it at that."

"People do horrible things every day…pick your head up, look at my face."

Ricky slowly lifted his head, and for the first time, really stared at the girl. Despite the nasty bruises, she was lovely. Her blue eyes glowed vividly from the tears creating swirls of violet. They reminded him of the Siamese cats he used to feed in his alley at night that always knew when he was home and whined by the back door for treats. She couldn't have been more than seventeen. Her features were strong for a girl so young. He admired them.

"I'm looking…" He whispered glumly. "Now what?"

"This really hurts, you know? You wanna know who did this?"

"No…"

"My boyfriend!"

"He beats you to a pulp and you still call him your boyfriend?" Ricky groaned. "That's stupid."

The girl clamped her mouth shut and nodded. "You're right, he's my _ex-_boyfriend. That _loser!" _She nudged Ricky again. "He did something horrible, and I know I'll forgive him later, even if I want to _kill him_ right now."

Ricky sighed and sat up tall. He forced himself to give her his attention otherwise she would nudge him the whole ride.

"Sure…and then you'll go back to him like an abused housewife. I see it all the time."

"I will not! I'll never take him back, I don't need him any more."

"Yeah, otherwise, you may not have a face left. You need that."

The girl folded her arms stubbornly. "Didn't you get my point…about people doing horrible things?"

Ricky shrugged. "Not really. What's the fact that he beats you have to do with me? In case you're wondering, I _don't_ beat up on women."

"_Rrr!_ I _mean_…that horrible things can be forgiven, so whatever you've done, can be forgiven too."

Ricky rolled his eyes. "Where do you get this stuff? _Dear Abby?_"

The girl perked up. "Yeah, how'd you know? I _love_ her column…and her sisters, Ann Landers and Doctor Joyce! _Umm,_ I _think _they're all sisters…"

Ricky shook his head. "Only Ann and Abby…_arrgh,_ What I've done can never be…_uhh_…undone."

"Of course it _can't._ We can't go back in time and change things like that, but we can always move on." She leaned over and gripped his wrist. Ricky flinched, but didn't pull away. She ran her fingers over his scars sympathetically.

"Every time I read or hear about someone who killed themselves, I want to cry…and I usually do_._ Our lives can never be that bad if we compare it to others in the world…at least it shouldn't be… _aww_ crud, I'm gonna cry again." She choked and turned her head away, but didn't let go of his wrist and tenderly stroked it. Ricky enjoyed the sensation but slowly eased it from her hands.

"Hey, don't cry for me, you don't even know me."

"So what? You're another human being and that's enough."

"Big deal, people die every second of the day. We can't waste our tears for all of them." Ricky kicked at the chair in front of him.

She sniffled and flicked her hair. Ricky could tell she flat-ironed it. It hung parted down the middle and waved slightly past her shoulders. A few dark chestnut strands brushed across his cheek and he liked its softness. He imagined she did that on purpose, but he didn't mind.

"Then…whom are you _wasting_ your tears on?" She questioned.

Ricky's jaw hung open…was he really only crying for his brother… or himself? He tilted his head confused.

"I...I don't know anymore."

"Look, I didn't say you can't have a moment to cry…we all need that. I was just wondering."

Ricky fidgeted as the train made another stop and more people boarded with passing glances at the two of them. One woman in a business suit glowered at him severely and continued down to the opposite row of seats. The girl pretended to be oblivious and played with the zipper on her denim jacket. Ricky slumped down again and elbowed her.

"Hey listen, why don't you go sit somewhere else?"

"What do you mean? I'm not bothering you, am I?"

"Yeah, you are. I came on here to be by myself, not to hear your pep talks."

"What's the matter? I can move behind you, but then you'd have to keep turning your neck to talk…If I move in front, I'll have to strain to talk to you, I'm happy sitting here."

Ricky gaped at her. _"Happy?_ Who says I even _wanna_ talk to you? I don't know you."

"No one says, but I'm trying to keep your mind off what you were thinking before. I don't know you either, but this is how people connect."

Ricky heaved his arms up and down. "Sure. So now you're a mind-reader? What was I thinking?"

The girl put her leg up. She sat upon it and then faced him. She leaned over and pulled a piece of lint from his curls. He jerked his head.

"I'm not gonna bite you! I'll tell you what you were thinking, you were thinking of finding another way to do yourself in."

"I was not!"

"Yes, you were. I heard you mumbling."

"And if I was? So what? What does it have to do with you? Thinking and doing are two different things."

"Thoughts lead to actions. And it has nothing to do with me, but I made a vow to myself a minute ago. You are _not_ getting off this train until you promise me you won't hurt yourself."

Ricky actually laughed aloud. "Are you for real? You know, I think you're a little nuts, maybe that boyfriend of yours hit you too hard."

The girl's expression saddened and she casually punched him. "That's not funny! I know why you don't want me to sit next to you; you don't want all these people to think _you_ beat me up. You look like you would smack me around with that smelly green jacket and those heavy metal combat boots!"

Ricky's embarrassment flared as her voice raised. "This is my style, it doesn't make me an abuser."

How tall are you anyway?" She calmed down.

Ricky patted the top of his head. "Around 6'3…but I think I have another inch to go."

"Wow, you're huge! That's way cool, I bet nobody messes with you." She said coyly. "Height makes might."

Ricky looked down miserable. Two days ago Moody's bullies messed with him in front of all his peers…and he just let it happen.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Seriously, you have a bunny face, but I bet you can kick major butt."

Ricky threw up his hand. "Alright already! I don't like getting into fights, even if I look like I do it for a living. I'm not as badass as everyone thinks…or wants me to be!"

"Who wants you to fight?"

"Everyone at school. It's a long story, just drop it."

Ricky's eyes averted toward the window at the elevated tracks and he observed the flashing street and house lights zoom past. _'Maybe if I ignore her she'll go away.' _He decided. However, now he wasn't so sure he wanted her to leave.

Two minutes of silence passed between them, he watched from the corner of his eye as she dug into her red purse and rummaged for a small mirror and face powder. She tried her best to conceal her bruises. Her nose stopped bleeding, but swelled up pink. He felt bad for laughing. If the guy who did this to her was on the train now, Ricky would have broken his nose. She was too interesting and pretty to be treated like that. That wasn't a nice thought either; _no_ woman should be treated so cruelly. He tapped his fingers on the sill and continued to mull over his failings.

"Why don't you dunk your head in a tubful of water and stick your finger in a socket. That aught to work. Toss a blow dryer in for good measure. You're so intent on killing yourself even though it won't change a darn thing, you still did what you did." She said coolly.

"Great idea! Should I use hot or cold water?" He retorted.

The girl exhaled disappointed. She grasped his arm until he looked her way angry.

"Now what? You're very pushy."

"You're _impossible!_ I guess the whole world revolves only around _you,_ huh?" She waved her arm and pointed out the few passengers sitting at the other side.

"Look at all these people closely. That woman reading Harlequin in the corner has a _career._ I bet she has kids too, but her boss asked her to stay late and she's all grumpy because she wasn't home to cook them dinner or help with the homework and tuck them to bed. That brother with the little 'fro is grooving to his boom box, he's having a great old time listening to _Kool and the gang_. The way he's bopping he might be composing his own song, but he hasn't been discovered yet. That beefy guy next to him in the dusty uniform? See how he's turning his ring with a smile? Yeah, the music pees him off, but all he can think about is going home and cuddling up with his beautiful wife of fifteen years. And why not? He's a construction worker, he put in a real hard day's work making sure we have roofs over our heads."

Ricky forced his gaze on everyone. He could imagine the exact scenarios. He looked away moodily.

"So. What's that gotta do with what happened to me?"

"A lot! I bet I know what you do. You stomp through the city and look at everyone who's even remotely happy or secure and think, _how could they? _How could they just carry on while _I'm_ suffering? You're drowning in your own ego!"

Ricky held his cheek. "Aren't we observant? Can I see your shrink license? What do you know about it?"

"I'm not a scholar, but I know how to read people."

Everything she told him dug under his skin and made sense, just like Clifford's words earlier. He lowered his eyes and his mouth drooped sadly.

"Alright…I get you, now please, I just wanna be alone."

The girl surprised him and stood up from the seat. She adjusted her purse strap over her shoulder and smiled. He noticed that she did it despite the pain it caused her face, and he was instantly attracted. Her wide-mouthed smile bared a lot of decently straight and white teeth. She leaned toward him and patted his shoulder.

_"_Okay Greta Garbo, I'm leaving now. I'm not completely convinced that you won't try anything stupid…but I know I did my part as a caring fellow human."

The girl shrugged and walked ahead a few steps. The train suddenly lurched back with a deafening squeal. Ricky dove to the side and made a grab for her before she was thrown down face-forward. Everyone stumbled frontward from the instant break and the lights flickered off and plunged them into darkness.


	3. Start living

**"That's the way I am…"  
**

**Chapter 3: Start Living**

The girl landed across Ricky's lap and tossed her arms around his neck. Their cheeks pressed close and they watched with dread as every light in the vicinity went black. Ricky turned his face, his nose brushed against hers and she drew back slightly from the pain. He hoped his breath didn't stink, but she didn't pull away from him.

"It's okay, I think it's just a black out…maybe a brown out. It's happened before." Ricky said.

"Not when I was trapped on a train!" She said fearfully. "It's so dark. I'm scared."

The boom box music died down and the construction worker clapped for attention.

"Hey everyone! The conductor will probably come through the cars and he'll tell us what to do. I think we should all sit tight and wait for him. We're okay up here, this train isn't goin' anywhere."

With that announcement he took his seat. The others shuffled in their places and murmured to themselves. The businesswoman called out irritably.

"I have to get home to my kids, this is ridiculous!"

"We can't help it lady, we all wanna get home, but it's just the way it is…unless you wanna jump?" The construction worker said.

Ricky and the girl peered out the window again; sure enough, the train halted in dead center on the elevated track, with no solid landing on either side. She sighed and loosened her hold on his neck.

"I don't wanna be trapped up here…what if there's a maniac on the train. He'll come get us!"

Ricky tried not to laugh, but failed. "A _maniac?_ Don't you think he would have tried to kill us when the were lights on?"

He was so close that her minty warm breath exhilarated his senses. She cracked the gum in her mouth and swallowed.

"Yeah, but it's pitch black, now he can move about freely and no one will see him! He might have a gun...or an ax!"

"Oh boy. You watch too many horror films."

The fear deepened in her rich voice and she curled herself up higher against him. "Will…will you protect me, Ricky?"

"Hey, how did you know my name?"

"I heard you say it when you were calling yourself a freak…it's a cute name. So…_will you protect me?" _She asked again.

Ricky's vision adjusted to the darkness and the moonlight beamed through. It illuminated her wide eyes. He felt her slender body tremble. He shifted himself uneasily, but a warm feeling spread through him.

"Sure, I'll protect you. But _uhh_…can you at least tell me your name?"

"It's Coral…I know, that's a weird name. Apparently I was conceived on a beach and something stuck my mother in the backside all night." She offered the explanation, even though Ricky hadn't asked. He liked her name, and thought it was unique.

"Were your parents hippies or something?"

"They were more like lame beatniks, so uncool." Her face darkened, but then she shook it off and laughed at him. "But _anyway_…I think I'm okay now. I'm sorry for crushing your knees with my big thighs."

She slid off his lap reluctantly, but stayed near to him.

Ricky looked away and wiped the tiny drops of sweat from his brow. Did she have to talk about her thighs in the dark, while she was sitting on his lap? Yes, _she did,_ because girls were sometimes just that unconscious to the lusting of men.

"They're…not _big…_you got long legs, that's all." He mumbled.

"Yeah, odd thing is, I'm not that tall, but I'm not a shrimp. What do you think? I'm 5'6."

"That's a lot shorter than me…I'd say you were just about average. I don't know. It's getting hot in here."

"Take off that jacket. I bet you wear it twenty-four seven, don't you? It's your comfort coat, you can hide in it, and it gives you sense of empowerment."

_"Jeesh,_ Coral, it's just a jacket and _I like it._ That's all." Ricky smiled crookedly. She was really on to him.

"Okay, whatever you say. I just know these things... You see this denim jacket? It's my favorite and sometimes it hardly comes off either. Except right now."

She scooted herself over and removed the jacket and placed it over her lap. She wore a frilly, cream colored, peasant blouse with bell sleeves and she toyed with ribbons on her chest. Ricky tried not stare at her slender fingers as she absentmindedly stroked her cleavage. His legs shook.

"That feels a little better…come on, try it. Don't be afraid to show yourself." She whispered.

"Show myself? I'm right here. Besides, it's dark, whose gonna see me anyway?"

Coral leaned across him and tugged on his coat sleeve until it was half off his arm. Ricky gave up and removed the coat. He tossed it over the seat in front of him.

"Is that better? Now you can see my grungy tee-shirt and rock hard abs."

"Actually, I can't see it, but I know it's white. Woof, I can smell it. Is that motor oil?"

"Yeah, I _umm_…know how to fix cars and stuff." He was disappointed she didn't comment on his abs. Ricky just discovered the pleasures of lifting weights and relieving his tensions through strength training, but he was still a novice.

"Awesome! You should be a mechanic…when you _grow up."_ She insisted.

"Maybe I will. I like it."

Coral pointed to the sky and smiled. "Isn't the moon gorgeous? I hate that we can't see things more bathed in its glow, all because of the stupid street lamps and artificial lighting."

Ricky glanced upward with a small grin. "Yeah, it's great. I have a telescope at home. I used to always take it out to the yard and stare into space. I love meteor showers. It's totally amazing what you see up there."

_"Used_ to? What do you mean? Did it break?"

Ricky shrugged_. "Nahh_…I just stopped taking it out, that's all."

"Why? Did the sparkling, infinite universe suddenly get boring?" She pressed.

Ricky sighed. She asked too many questions. "No, I just didn't have time for it, I had other things on my mind."

Coral nodded slowly. "Right, like that horrible, unforgivable thing you did, it killed all your joys, didn't it?"

Ricky glared at her, almost menacingly, but she wasn't swayed. She stared just as hard until his gaze faltered and he looked down. There was no sense trying to play the towering tough with her. He liked her too much and already told her he'd protect her.

"It _killed_ a lot of things…believe me."

"I believe you, Ricky. Do you wanna tell me what you did?"

Ricky suddenly felt his chest constrict. He grasped the seat and shook his head doggedly. "No way…_no_…I can't."

"Why can't you?"

"Because _I can't, _okay? Stop bugging me about it."

"I'm not trying to bug, I'm trying to help." She insisted.

"I didn't ask for your help, Coral."

"But I'm giving it any way. Alright, keep it to yourself, then. That's your prerogative."

Ricky felt very stifled beside her. He scratched his head and tried figure out how to ask her to move it…kindly.

"Coral, do you _mind _sitting on this side where my jacket is? I have to stretch my legs out."

He couldn't quite see her reaction, but she rose and gripped his hand.

"What's the matter?"

"I'm still scared. I don't want to lose you, Ricky. Just hold my hand while I switch over?"

He sensed a much deeper meaning behind her pleas. Ricky clutched her cool fingers tight. His hand was very warm and he rubbed his palm against hers soothingly. He raised his arm and led her around to the opposite side. As soon as she was comfortable he leaned back and put up his legs across the attached seat. They were stiff from sitting down for so long. He heard her laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Your legs! Talk about _long!_ They almost reach the other side of the aisle.

"If the maniac comes running in here, I'll trip him up for ya. Maybe he'll fall on his own axe."

He ducked before she could swipe his head and they both laughed. As if on cue, the door between the train cars swung open. Coral nearly jumped in the air and they groped for each other frightened. Keys rustled and a flashlight beamed across all the other sour faces in the car.

"Hey, I'm the conductor and my name is Dwayne. I'm just making sure everything is cool here. As you can see, this end of the city had a minor black out and we may be stuck for the next half-hour or more. I'm sorry, but there's no way to let anyone off right now."

The passengers grumbled, but accepted their fate and the conductor shut off his flashlight. "If anyone has to use the bathroom, try to hold it in or you'll have to make your way down to my end of the train, just be careful crossing between cars."

With that brief announcement, he left them alone again. Coral wriggled out of Ricky's arms. She lay back against the wall and put one knee up and one arm over his seat.

"Ricky, tell me more about yourself and your life. You go to school, right?"

_"Uhh,_ yeah. I'm a sophomore…_well..."_ Ricky flushed with embarrassment, it sounded very juvenile to say it. "Actually, I'm _repeating_ a year, I should be a junior. I just kinda dropped out of school last year after…the thing happened."

"Oh, that's rough. I'm glad you decided to go back though. That's a good sign. I'm seventeen and a senior. I'm so happy to only have three months left."

Ricky's admiration soared even higher. His instincts were right. She _was _an older woman.

"Go on, tell me more. You have any girlfriends?" She needled.

Why did women always want to know that? Grandma Peache predicted he would, but it hadn't quite happened yet.

"No, not right now, I'm just working on getting myself together."

"I totally understand that, besides, things…things can happen in relationships, you know? Things you're totally not ready for." She said cryptically, then smiled. _"Umm,_ so, who are your friends? Tell me _even_ more."

**~Oo~**

Ricky found his comfort zone with Coral and decided to open up about High School. He wasn't having the time of his life, but he reached a point where he finally adjusted, even if the school year was almost over. Coral was an enthusiastic listener, and deeply involved in what he said. He told her about Clifford and their friendship. He talked about being a bodyguard and the showdown with Moody. He even admitted his failure to stand up against Mike and Moody in the park and how he chickened out and ran away. Coral listened patiently then sat back and put her hand up to silence him.

"Wait a minute! _Hold on._ You mean to tell me you have a best friend in school?"

"Isn't that what I've been saying this whole time? Yeah, it's Clifford Peache. And I guess his grandma."

Coral clicked her teeth disapprovingly. "And you're sitting on this train deciding whether or not to end your life?"

Why did she have to keep going back to that topic? He nearly forgot it.

"Ye…yes…_yes_…I am." He replied hesitant.

"So, there actually _are_ people who love and care about you? Yet you want to be selfish." She said disappointed.

Ricky looked at her exasperated. "What do you _mean?_ I'm _not _selfish at all!"

"Yes, you are. You mope around day after day lost in your own pain. Then you plot to take your life, and nearly succeeded the first time." She cringed, thinking of his wrist. "But you can't even stop to think how much grief, worry and stress you'd cause to the people who _do _love you. _That's_ selfish." She glared at him, but sympathy flickered in her eyes.

Ricky sat back and folded his arms with the demeanor of a scolded child. When he ran away from the park after his bike was dumped in the lake, Clifford made every effort to find him. He went to his house and his weary mother begged him to call her if he heard anything from Ricky. Clifford ran all over the city to places he thought Ricky might have been and braved the rough neighborhoods and dirty junkyards. How did Ricky thank him for his concern? He demanded money and ran off again like a spoiled brat. He made Clifford chase him through the dark and deserted city blocks until they hit the train station.

After a confrontation, Ricky nearly beat the poor little guy up when he tried to be reasonable about the tragedy. Clifford had some of his facts wrong, but that was because Ricky lied to everyone. Clifford took a giant risk with losing their friendship in order to help him.

Ricky held his head and sniffled. Clifford really _did_ care about him as a best friend, and the fact that he knew Ricky was the one who accidentally pulled the trigger on his own brother didn't change things between them. It would only change if Ricky withdrew, as he so often did.

Ricky felt Coral stroke his hair and she talked delicately. "There's someone who cares, Ricky. Whether it's _one _person or a million… that can mean the whole difference between life and death. You know what, count two, three with grandma, count…_me."_

The sensation of a human touch warmed his spirit. He couldn't recall when he last felt a gesture so simple, yet so loving. He wanted to cry out loud, but held it in. Ricky raised his dampened eyes to her and a realization pounded him. He blathered about himself all night. Ricky _'Selfish' _Linderman. He examined her face through the shadows. The blood around her lip crusted. He reached over and patted her shoulder.

"Hey, does it hurt really bad?"

Coral stared at him in awe from his one genuine question for her and he felt ashamed.

"Only when I talk too much." She whispered. "I'll live. _Everything_ heals in time."

Coral talked a lot, Ricky realized. She talked non-stop through her pain to keep him from dying.

"Why did it happen?"

The moonlight danced in her eyes, but her mouth curled up regrettably.

"Ricky, that's a secret _I'm_ going to keep." She gingerly ran her hand over her cheek and lowered her face to hide her tears.

With that one gesture, Ricky had an epiphany. Regardless of what happened, the world did not revolve around _him_. There were so many others out there battling diseases, oppression, heartache and death, and they still did it with a smile and loving heart...just like Coral. Ricky had a choice to keep embracing all the darkness in his life or to grab for the light. He had the opportunity to live and somehow use his own tragedy as a way to help others. He would not take that for granted. Tomorrow he resolved to go back to the park, fish out his bike, and stand up against the rotten bullies once and for all.

Ricky leaned forward and draped his arms over the seat before her. His pulse raced and he licked his lips. Coral did the same and she raised her hands to his face.

_"Ricky I..."_ She stopped, and waited for him to say what he wanted to say.

"Coral, do you think that _we can…"_

The train lurched and she clung to his sleeve frightened.

"I think the blackout's over. Don't worry, _I'm still here."_ He reassured her with a large grin as the lights gradually came on.

The city outside was once more blanketed in the artificial glow of neon and orange. Everyone clapped when the conductor announced they would move in no time. Coral glanced out the window with a wry smile.

"Well wouldn't you know it, my stop is next."

Coral put on her jacket and zipped it up. She swung her purse over her arm and composed herself. Ricky followed her lead and put on his coat too.

"Ricky, It's been great talking to you and I wish you all the best. So, are you going back to school tomorrow?"

The cloud of passion dissipated and Ricky sighed. "Yeah…_maybe_…it's Friday though. I might as well start the week off fresh on Monday. I'm definitely gonna get my bike back. I worked too damn hard on that thing to let it rust in the lake."

"_Hot dog!_ That's wonderful! I hope to see it someday."

"Sure! You can take a ride on it too."

"That would be so fun!" She giggled. "I'll hold you to it. Rain or shine, or snow!"

"You're on!"

The train slowed down into the station. Coral pushed her hair back and whispered in his ear.

"Give him a wallop for _me._"

She attempted to leave and he tugged on her arm. They gazed into each others eyes. Coral tilted her head demurely and leaned against him. Ricky sat back on the window and clutched her waist. She held his shoulders and kissed him slowly on the lips. Ricky absorbed it with a gentle passion, being wary of her wounds. She pulled back.

"I _really_ have to go now, goodbye, Ricky."

As she moved between the doors Ricky jumped up and blocked them from closing. He hugged her close.

"Wait, Coral. let me come with you! It's late, it's dangerous. I'll take you home. I really need to talk to you more."

She put a hand on his chest. The train couldn't pull out until he moved from the doorway and the conductor rang the alarm.

"No Ricky, you don't need to do that. You just need to…_start living."_

Coral stepped out of the entrance and the doors closed in Ricky's face. He put his hands on the windowpane and banged it desperately. She shook her head and smiled. Ricky didn't move from the window until long after the train pulled out and he no longer saw her.


	4. The way you are

**"That's the way I am…"  
**

**Chapter 4: The way you are**

**Present day**

Ricky woke up startled and rubbed his face. He yawned loudly and scratched his beard. Whenever it started to itch like this he knew it was time to go clean-shaven. He pulled off his baseball cap and shoved it in his coat pocket. He dozed way beyond his destination.

"Oh well, just like the old days…riding the rails until the sun comes up." He mused. "It's the weekend anyway."

He looked behind him. The bag lady was long gone and left a flowered patch of fabric from her worn out knitting bag on the seat. He was the only one left inside the car and when he glanced at his watch it was half past midnight. He would have to get out and cross over the platform. The train pulled into the station and he waited by the sliding doors. As soon as they opened a woman rushed inside, she was checking her text messages and carrying a few shopping bags in her other hand. A large, stuffed, tote bag with the letters '_WGN RADIO'_ hung off her shoulder. She didn't look up fast enough and slammed into Ricky's chest. Ricky grabbed her arms before she staggered backward. He pulled her into the car and the doors slammed closed behind her.

"_Alright_…I'll get off at the next one." He sighed. "Are you okay, Miss?"

The woman dropped her bags startled. She snapped her cell phone shut embarrassed.

"I am so sorry, sir. I didn't think anyone would be in this side of the train at night, I should have been more careful. Did I hurt you?"

"_Naw,_ I've been through worse scuffles. That was just a love tap. Here, let me help ya with these."

Ricky crouched down to pick up her groceries and smiled to ease her fears. He stared closely at her and in a flash, time reversed thirty years. Her eyes widened with concern, but she gently smiled back at him. She knelt down and they slowly reached for the same bag.

The woman cocked her head confused. "Do…do I know you?"

"I was thinking the same thing." He handed her bag over and helped her off the floor. "I know we've met before."

Ricky quickly took in her form. No longer dressed in shabby, bell bottom jeans, she wore a dark blue cashmere sweater that complimented the similar hues in her eyes and black slacks with smart low-heeled boots. He couldn't help staring, even when she finished adjusting her bags and backed away disconcerted. She aged fabulously, and carried herself with an air of grace. Ricky dusted his hands on his thighs and stood tall. He had to stop gazing at her or she was liable to call the cops.

"Forgive me for staring like a weirdo." He mustered. "But is your name…_Coral?"_

She nodded slowly. "Yes, how…how did _you…"_ Her expression brightened and a delighted grin spread across face. She lowered her bags on the seat and raised a hand to her mouth.

"_Oh my God_…it can't be…_Ricky?_ Ricky, is that you?" She demanded.

He found her.

"It sure is! Ricky Linderman! In 1979 on this exact night and in this very last train car you helped to bring me back to the real world and saved my life…_Coral! _I can't believe it! I never thought I'd see you again! I couldn't find you, I never got your last name or anything!" He blurted out excited.

Ricky restrained himself from rushing to her. Coral made it easier for him. She ran over and threw herself into his arms. She laughed aloud and he hugged her as he had that night. His senses exploded as he held her. She smelled of elegant, sweet perfume and he caught a whiff of the same mint bubblegum on her breath that enticed him years ago. His briefly ran his hand ran through her soft hair. It was shorter and wavier, and colored a deep reddish brown that delicately balanced her golden skin tones.

Coral let loose whimpers of shock and happiness as she rocked him and patted his back. She finally pulled away for a fuller inspection, and a demure smile crossed her lips. He distinctly remembered it as the same smile she gave him right before she kissed him goodbye that night.

"It's Coral _Bennett_! Ricky, you look wonderful! You haven't aged a day! Oh my…I feel like an old bag…_how did?.…Where?…I'm_ _thrilled!_ I can't even speak…and that's all I do for a living, _talk, talk, talk!_ Come, sit down, we have so much catching up to do!"

Ricky followed her to the seats and plopped down across from her to better observe her face. _'God, she's still so beautiful.'_ He thought helplessly.

Clifford was right. Seeing her again made him feel like a lusty sixteen year-old, but a wholesome, mature feeling enveloped him. His gaze quickly averted to her left hand. There was no wedding band. He glanced at their surroundings and cracked a wry smile.

"Coral, I know this may seem awkward and it's really late, but…can I just take you out for a cup of coffee? I think I about had it with trains tonight."

Coral's eyes lowered shyly and she wrung her hands. She came back to her senses. They were almost complete strangers, but understood the significance of their meeting. She never forgot the handsome and desperately lost teenage boy on the train and often wondered if he took his life. Sometimes, the thought of him brought her to tears. She looked up and firmly nodded.

"Yes you may, Ricky Linderman…and I want to hear everything."

**~Oo~**

For over an hour Ricky and Coral talked, only this time, Ricky was adamant that she tell him about _her _life. He was shocked to learn that Coral was _Dr. C,_ the warm hearted, and feisty talk-therapist on late night 720AM. Ricky always felt her voice and the way she imparted advice was vaguely familiar, but he never put it together. Coral chided him for not calling the station and he admitted that there were times he put his hand on the receiver, but chickened out.

"I'm terrible…I'm really not big with the Internet and all this stuff for myself, I only use it for the kids and research about programs, colleges and all that." He admitted. "I should have looked you up sooner."

"Don't worry, I was in hiding anyway. After six years on the air, my producers finally convinced me to start my own promotional website and blog…it's in development. I'm a very private person and I'm still leery, but they told me not to worry. Most of the time they'll have people running it for me. I just need to dish out the talk. They also secured some publishing deals and want me to write a book! I'm overwhelmed by it all, but I think I just might."

Ricky grinned and winked. "I'll make it a best-seller and buy every copy. You shouldn't lose sleep about being online, just watch out for the posers and stalkers. I've dealt with a few cases of…'mistaken identity' with my students. Whatever happened to face to face contact to meet the man or woman of your dreams? I can't fathom how people fall in love with blurry videos and chat boxes. _Ehh…_I don't know, we come from an older generation, back when the only webs were made by spiders."

Coral playfully swatted him. "Speak for yourself! I'm not ready for the pine box yet. But really, face-to-face contact seems old hat now. They say you reveal more emotions and unfortunately drop your guard easier when you can't see the person's facial reactions. It happens so fast…but I understand your point. It's hard to imagine it can be _'real.' _It's not every day strangers meet on a train…"

She trailed off self-conscious, but Ricky smiled and changed the subject.

After getting past the formalities, Ricky wanted to cut down to the serious talk about the events that led them to their fateful meeting thirty years ago. Coral sipped her coffee and picked at the cranberries in her muffin.

"Are you sure you wanna hear all this old drama?"

"Yes. It's your turn now. Ladies first." Ricky urged her.

"So your big question is, why did I come on that train battered?"

"And why didn't you let me escort you home? I thought for sure after our kiss…" Ricky tapped his long fingers against the cup and shrugged. "Well...never mind that, just what was going on in _your_ teenage life, Coral?"

"Ricky, before I jumped on the train I was on a lousy date with my boyfriend, his name was Stevie. I planned to break it off with him that night but first I had something extremely important to tell him."

Ricky examined her facial expressions and groaned inwardly. He saw it a number of times on the young girls at school. It was her withdrawn stare and biting of the lip that clued him in to her next announcement.

"That week I found out I was pregnant, Ricky. I already got a beating from my dad and then I ran out of the house to find Stevie. He took the news exactly the same way! Even before I told him, I knew I didn't want him involved in my life. He didn't really care either way. He called me a dumb broad and used goods and said I should get rid of it."

Every muscle clenched in Ricky's body. The two men whom she should have been able to trust the most let her down. That night she was beaten twice. Coral shook and had to put down her cup. Ricky clutched her hand and drew his thumb across her fingers.

"Go on, Coral. It's okay."

Her eyes lit up tearfully. "My father was abusive to me and my mom. It went on for years…and of course when I was old enough, I started dating losers just like him. I let that vicious pattern control my life. It went that way for a while before I could come to terms with myself. I realized I was responsible for my own future and had to start making the right choices or turn into one big, depressed bruise. Did I want to wallow in self-pity and be a victim? Or did I want to pick myself up and start over? My first life-altering choice was to keep my baby, regardless of what happened and who helped me or not. My mother adored her and my father relented too. I had a beautiful girl…her name is Rachel."

Coral smiled as the tears rolled down her cheeks. "Do you know that I've been a grandmother for four years already? I have two granddaughters and a loving son-in law. I always knew grandmothers get younger every year, but come on…at forty-seven there's still a chance for _me_ to have another child!" She laughed.

Ricky tried to fathom the elegant woman before him as 'Grandma Bennett' and he shook his head in disbelief. Clifford's grandmother was eighty years old when they were still in High School.

"Wow, so, Rachel's your only child? You never married?"

"I _did_…and just like before, I wound up with another abusive jerk. Kevin. Up until ten years ago we didn't live in Chicago, we were in California because of his business. The only things he gave to me besides high blood pressure and a few black eyes were my beautiful sons. I have one at home, Charlie. He's in tenth grade, and the other is Scott, and he's away in his second-year of college. Scott dislikes his dad but Charlie's more forgiving. We all get along though…too little, too late of course."

Coral resisted the urge to slam the table. She abruptly sobbed and Ricky clutched her. She laid her head upon his shoulder and wiped her eyes and nose with a table napkin he handed her.

"Ricky, I feel so embarrassed sitting here telling you all this. You must think I'm a big fraud. A clueless hack that knows how to dish it out but can't take her own advice!"

Ricky forced her gaze sympathetically. "Absolutely not! You're a sweet hearted human being with troubled and honest life experiences. You desired to share what you've learned to prevent others from hurting themselves. You had that quality even as a teen and you know what? You taught _me_ to do the same. I never in a million years thought I'd become a guidance counselor. At sixteen I never even thought I'd make it to graduation…but I _did._ I survived, because on this night, you and my best friend Clifford taught me that having friends that care enough…even if they have to be tough about it…makes all the difference between life and death."

Ricky closed his mouth and looked up solemnly. _God, I hate crying in front of people. _When he looked back at Coral, she was smiling.

"Oh Ricky, I…I remember saying something like that to you before I left. What a man you've become. I know I sound like an old biddy, but I'm so proud of you."

**~Oo~**

They left the bistro a few minutes later. As they strolled back to the train station, Ricky casually draped his arm over her shoulder and Coral leaned closer to him.

"So tell me, Dr. C, what's a professional like you doing running around with heavy packages and taking trains in the middle of the night? It's dangerous"

Coral shrugged. "I have to put my car in the shop. I think it died yesterday. I don't know what's wrong, it's only five years old."

Ricky cleared his throat loudly. "I wouldn't think of having you put it in a 'shop.' You're talking to a licensed mechanic, my dear…or did you forget? This jacket is ingrained with motor oil and grease." He patted down his pockets. "I think I have a business card somewhere."

Coral sniffed it and laughed. "You're right…oh _Ricky!_ That's the _same_ smelly coat! Old habits do die hard!"

"I've retained a lot of my youth." He said smugly.

"I _see. _The years have been _very_ kind to you physically." She murmured and looked at him eagerly. "I'll gladly be your customer. What's your price?"

Ricky's eyes darted back and forth and he pretended to be lost in thought. "Well, what do you say to having dinner with me some time…_soon?"_

"You're fixing my car and all you want is for me to buy you…"

"_No. I'm_ buying dinner…the price is that you _let me _take you out on a date."

His eyes sparkled under the streetlamp as he watched her fidget and shy away. He nudged her.

"I promise before I do _anything,_ I will come to your home and speak to the man of the house."

Coral laughed. _"Really!_ Charlie has been trying to get me to date for years. I know he's desperate for a father figure. It's Scott you'll have to impress. That poor kid grew up around all the fighting and Rachel too. Still, she'd be thrilled to…"

Coral immediately cut herself off, she presumed much too far ahead. "I'm sorry. Never mind all that. Sherman, set the way back machine for two minutes!"

Ricky understood, but he shared her earnestness. The night couldn't have turned out any better even if he planned it. He laughed.

"That's right up my alley. I play a father figure every day." He said gently.

Coral put her arm across his waist and they walked the rest of the way to the depot. They reminisced and shared anecdotes from their lives all the way home.

**~Oo~**

Ricky insisted on accompanying her until she was safely at the door to her modest 1-family house. He stayed on the bottom porch step and the nightlight sprang on.

"Here you are, safe and sound. No black outs or run-ins with ax murderers."

Coral shook her head with a relieved sigh. "Still a bodyguard. Ricky, I'm sorry you were dragged halfway around the city. You must be exhausted."

"_Nahh_…I'm wide awake now! Seeing you again rejuvenated me. It was a little rough earlier though."

In the bistro, Ricky explained to her about his yearly visits to the train station with Clifford.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I understand…tonight's _the_ night. We'll definitely talk more about that. It's truly been wonderful seeing you again after all this time. Amazing, actually. I don't want us to be strangers."

"Five minutes after we first met again…you weren't at all." He admitted.

Ricky put his hands in his pockets as the wind and cold air picked up. Coral eased her way down the steps and casually zippered his coat.

"It's miraculous how it still fits, it grew with you."

"It's a little short on the arms, but I can live with it. When I get old and shrink, it will fit perfectly again."

Coral patted his chest and dusted off his shoulders. "Sure, in a hundred years. You know, Mr. Linderman, I've been doing most of the talking tonight. Is there anything you would like to tell me?"

Ricky knew she meant his tragedy. He determined that he would eventually tell her the truth, but now wasn't the time. He nonchalantly held her arms and pulled her close.

"I certainly will, but that's part of your payment plan."

Coral tossed her head back with a slight laugh. "Oh, I see. You're a blackmailer. If I don't go on a date with you, I don't get to know?"

"That sounds about right. And you don't get some of the best Italian food in the city. And _one_ date with me is not going to cover fixing your lemon!"

Coral held her hips. "Now my car's a lemon? You didn't even look at it yet. Is that fair?"

"Is life fair?"

"Good point. As Katherine Hepburn once said, _Life is hard…after all, it kills you._ "

"That's profound!" He laughed. "And _the calla lilies are in bloom again_..._really they are!"_ He imitated the actress' shaky voice.

She giggled and Ricky drew his arm over her waist and stooped toward her. "This might sound a little strong, but are we going to play like coy sixteen-year-olds all night?"

"I was seventeen then…_darn it! _And who's being coy?"

"Both of us."

Coral grinned and raised herself on her toes. Their lips met in a gentle kiss and then she pulled back slightly. _"Hey_, Mr. Linderman, there are no bruises here anymore."

Ricky smiled as his mouth met hers again. "I see that…and there never will be again."

"Is that a promise?" She asked between soft, deep kisses.

"Yes…" He whispered.

Her fingers dug against his back and Ricky felt her keen desires to be loved and have complete trust in a man once again. Ricky stared adoringly and hugged her. His chin grazed her hair and he spoke tenderly.

"You said I couldn't get off the train until I promised I wouldn't do anything stupid. Well, I promised, I came off…and I think I'm exactly where I need to be at last."

**~Oo~**

**The Ambassador Hotel-One year later**

Clifford sauntered onto the balcony near the parapet with two cold beers. He tapped Ricky and handed him a bottle. After taking a few sips and setting it down, Ricky turned around and leaned back on his elbows.

"Shelly really outdid herself tonight. Is she still in charge of the kitchen in the hotel?"

"Oh yeah, she's like the Iron Chef down there. They whip up some mean meals here thanks to her suggestions. Best in Chicago, five stars on the hotel list."

"They always did get high ratings. She's adventurous with her cooking." Ricky pointed a few feet ahead of him. "So, where is it?"

"What?"

"Come on, man, the telescope?"

Clifford laughed. "Oh…_that._ Shelly removed it a long time ago, she didn't want Danny taking any more 'astronomy' lessons."

"_Ahh,_ so there are some new heavenly bodies out there, huh?" Ricky grinned.

"Too many." He grinned slyly. "Whole orbits!"

"_Dog._ I _wonder_ where he got the idea to study the stars?"

Clifford held up his hands. "Don't look at me. I'm _not _my father…the old goat just called me two days ago, that man is living it up in Florida."

"Still chasing stewardesses_, _huh?"

"I don't know how he does it. But no, he's settling down, and get this, with a woman his own age."

Ricky laughed and crossed his arms. "Good for him! But you're only as young as you feel."

"Yeah, I finally figured him out. After mom died, I don't think he ever wanted to love a woman as much as he loved her. He didn't want to remarry forever."

"I figured that too, Cliff. Whatever makes him happy I guess. So, it looks like our women are getting along famously. I just have to watch out for my lady, Shelly can talk the ears off corn."

"No comment on that one. I agree, Rick. _Ehh,_ Shelly loves all the free advice Coral gives on _every_ subject. You didn't tell me your gal was such an expert!" He nudged his ribs.

Ricky blushed and kept drinking. "Those are her secrets…they work wonders on me, I'll tell you that!"

"So, how's the first three months of marriage been treating you?"

"It's amazing…a whole new world. You come to realize that it's not just about _you_ anymore. There's no more _'I', _it's only _'we.'_ And Coral makes sure I know that. There was no hesitation; we're too old for those games. God, I love her so much."

Ricky peered through the balcony windows and watched as Coral puttered around Clifford's kitchen setting out plates and spoons and laughing at Shelly's oddball sense of humor. She glanced up happily and caught him staring. She winked and blew him a kiss, then went back to her business.

"I've never seen anyone fall so hard for a woman. Your wedding was classic. Driving off into the sunset on your old motorbike! I can't believe you dragged her through the whole city on that broken down thing!" Clifford joked.

Ricky chuckled. "Not to mention in a wedding gown and tux! We also had our coats because she insisted on the winter wonderland theme _and_ had tin cans dragging across the back. It was terrific! She loved it! She said she waited thirty years to ride that bike. Rain or shine."

"Or snow! Winter's a good time to get married…it's cozy…I thought you wanted Vermont, but you two ran off to Aruba and thawed out."

"Oh heck _yeah!_ We had Bloody Marys and pancakes in the morning, took long walks and jogs on the beach, hikes, and luxurious swims, _aughh_…you shouldn't have reminded me, we have to go back."

"Now do you realize what you missed out on all these years?"

Ricky finished off his beer and shook his head. "No, Cliff, I didn't miss out on anything."

Clifford looked at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"If I got married much earlier in life, it wouldn't have been _Coral_, and I can't imagine that. I may not have kids of my own, but her kids and grandkids have become a part of me already. I'm telling you, she was always the one. It just took me too damn long to find out."

"Don't get back on the shame spiral, Rick. You're with her now. That's what counts."

"Sure. And I cherish every second."

Clifford smiled gently. Ricky Linderman constantly proved himself to be the 'Gentle giant.' Ricky's marriage also drew them even closer as friends. Coral's son Charlie became instant buddies with his son, Daniel. Life for the Peaches and the Lindermans was going well.

They gazed at the starry sky for a few moments and then Clifford had to laugh.

Ricky looked at him oddly. "What's so funny?"

"It's not funny, really, it's just…well…need I remind you what day it is?"

Ricky looked up and pondered, but then shrugged. "Sunday?"

"_Wow_…you really are a changed man, my friend."

"I'm not following."

Clifford patted his shoulder. "Tonight's _the night. _We all knew, but we waited to see if you would remember…" He trailed off when he saw Ricky's disappointment.

Ricky banged the ledge and glared at him. _"Clifford!_ Why didn't you tell me?"

Clifford folded his arms across his chest sternly and shook his head. "No, Ricky, if it was something that was still so important, you would have remembered without fail. I know it _was _very important to you, but guess what? You proved you don't need to keep falling back on that night. You made a terrific life for yourself. You have Coral to share your pains, and I know she's helped you so much. I can see the difference. You're …_alive,_ Ricky. Don't keep looking back. It was a moment in time, it happened, we learned from it, but you have to let it go. Damn, between you and your counseling and your wife now I sound like a therapist."

Ricky hung his head and grasped the inner-corners of his eyes with his fingers. He felt a huge rush of blood drain from his head when Clifford told him. He took a deep breath and suddenly, the feeling disappeared.

In its place was _serenity_.

He raised his eyes to his best friend with a deep smile. "You're right, Clifford. Coral told me that it's like a Rorschach test. You can focus on the black shapes or the white shapes and each one tells a different story. The black ones will always be visible and you'll always be aware of them, but you make the ultimate choice over which picture you see. The fact that I killed my brother will always be with me. I'm not an evil person, it was an accident, but I'm alive and tried my best to do good to others. I guess that's all I can hope for."

Clifford hugged Ricky. He picked up the empty bottles and led the way into the apartment, where their wives served dessert. He turned back and smiled.

"I know for sure you'll always do good, Ricky. Because _that's the way you are."_

**The End.**


End file.
